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Change
The first one
The first one to speak
The first one to want
to thrive
The first one to try and speak
and not to just survive
The first one to shatter denial
It feels like
Aware I’m squishing it inside
The first one to mention neurodivergence
Encourage talk
In youthful stages
Sharing ‘all those feelings’ of mine
Knowing others do what they
are capable of
and I am wrong, because
I don’t always see
What’s really going on in their world
But, I felt I was pretty good at an overview
and they preferred the, their lens, screen
Traumatic patterns too
Of anger,
I seemed like I was raising my
head above the water
Spitting out blood
I saw what was unhealthy
I felt putting conditions on it
Meant it wasn’t love
I end up feeling I’m selfish
because I keep discomfort alive
I want to ask the questions
and, for some, there’s a mass of
convenient assumption
Fanning flames of disillusionment
Yet, keeping the important stuff inside
Maybe they see me with an elevated
sense of self
Because I want to reach understandings
and doing it is bad for my health
We loop over the same topics
I chastise myself for each time
I’m bad for getting sucked in
Because you know how to hurt me
but, does it bother you,
watching me sink?
Or is there an exquisite elevation
and touch-release
Of a ‘troubled’ soul
with the ‘kooky’ vibe
My arrogance because things
you do in 2024
I could have told you
at twenty five
Me and that mass of feelings
That violate you
I spoke
But there’s no credit for a
heart alive
And so,
Is it me trying to secure safety?
Something no words can
ever buy
You don’t get credit for noticing
For being one of the first
From the loneliest place
to live life
I try to get vulnerable
and spill out my flaws
But my word salad
Stops you from being engaged
and, after all, I only eat sugar and carbs
Shaming repeated
and spirals
Each other’s disconnected soliloquies
Grey, vivid and blurry
Poised - of hurt and rage
Feeling paint cartwheels
lifted
all over my page
..
Tara star
Copyright ©
Tara poetry
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